Murder at the Opera - Margaret Truman [124]
“Christopher Warren,” Morris said. “Yes, we believe him. The pieces all fit
“We have agents working with the New York police on this Melincamp murder,” the special agent said.
“Any leads on who killed him?” Berry asked.
“Not at the moment,” the FBI agent said. “Let’s go over your report more closely.”
• • •
The report was based upon an hour-long interrogation of Chris Warren following the fax informing Washington’s MPD that Melincamp had been found dead in New York. That news had shaken Warren badly; Berry wondered whether he might have a breakdown before they could question him. But Warren pulled himself together and began to talk, and soon words and thoughts were flowing as though an internal dam had broken.
“…and I’m glad that Philip is dead,” Warren said, drawing in gulps of air. “He deserved to die
“Why is that?” Sylvia Johnson asked.
“Because of what he did to people. I wanted to kill him myself, but I was…”
“You were what?”
“I was afraid of him. That’s why I didn’t say anything when he killed Charise. He told me that if I talked to anybody about it, the same thing would happen to me
“If you talked about what ?” Berry asked. “Charise’s murder?”
“That, and the plan, too
“What in hell plan are you talking about, Warren?” Willie asked, his impatience showing.
“The plan to kill the president or some other big shot. It was going to be part of a larger plan, a bunch of American political big shots killed the same day
That statement brought a hush to the dimly lighted room. The tape recorder ran silently.
“Go on,” Berry said softly.
The three detectives sat back and allowed Warren to continue, which he did for the better part of the hour.
He told of how Charise had fallen under the spell of the young Arab student she’d started dating, and how that student had introduced her to a terrorist cell in Toronto with plans to strike another blow against the United States. Melincamp, he said, also exerted a strong hold over Charise, and she brought him into her new sphere of terrorist friends.
“What was in it for Melincamp?” Sylvia asked.
“Money. He wanted out of the partnership with Zöe and needed money, big money to buy her out. He and Zöe had some kind of agreement that gave him the right to do that. The terrorists promised him and Charise a ton of money if they would assassinate someone when they were in Washington
“When did you learn about this?” asked Berry.
“After we got here. I owed Melincamp money. He kept giving me advances. When it got to be a lot, he said he’d drop me and see to it that I didn’t have a career as a pianist. I believed him
“Whoa, whoa,” Willie said. “Hold on a minute. Are you telling us that you kept your mouth shut because you owed this slimeball money?”
“In the beginning,” Warren responded. “But it was more than that. When Charise told him she wasn’t going through with it, he—”
“She decided not to cooperate?” Berry asked.
“That’s right. She got cold feet. I don’t think she ever intended to do it. She might have been a little screwed up, preaching how the U.S. is out to conquer the world, keep people in poverty, dumb stuff like that. But she wouldn’t have tried to assassinate anybody.” He shook his head. “Man, when she told me about the plan, I just laughed. At first. She was supposed to get close to the president whenever she could and—and kill him. Kill somebody. Charise told me that the president and his wife were opera lovers, and attended a lot of operas. Melincamp and the terrorists figured she’d have it easy getting close, being young and pretty and Canadian, maybe even get to sing for them, and then shoot him